Chapter 46: The Confirmation

The pill bottle rattled in Gabriel’s shaking hand, a maraca of betrayal.

"He prescribed them?" Gabriel whispered, his voice cracking. "Julian gave her these?"

"He did what was necessary to stabilize her," Eleanor said, her voice smooth, reasonable, terrifying. She leaned heavily on her cane, looking like a monarch surveying a battlefield she had already won. "He knew she was hysterical. He knew she was a danger to herself. To the company."

"He loved her!" Gabriel roared, the gun wavering between Richard and Eleanor. "He left to save her!"

"He left because I bought him a clinic in Auckland and a new identity," Eleanor sneered. "He sold her out, Gabriel. Just like he sold you out in '99. He signed the commitment papers for you, and the prescription pad for her."

I watched Gabriel crumble. The man who had been a terrifying force of nature in the woods, the architect of the Blackwood fortune, looked suddenly small. Broken. The myth of the "good brother" was dissolving in the damp basement air.

My chest vibrated.

It was Mrs. Higgins’ phone, tucked against my skin.

The buzz was loud in the silence, a persistent, insect hum.

"Check it," Richard said, his gun still trained on Gabriel's chest. "It's probably him. The coward."

I reached into my shirt and pulled out the phone. The screen was bright in the gloom.

**New Message from +64...**

It was a picture file.

I tapped it. The image loaded slowly, pixel by pixel, fighting the poor reception of the underground vault.

It was a scan of a piece of heavy, cream-colored cardstock. Embossed script. Elegant. Formal.

*The pleasure of your company is requested at the marriage of*
*Richard Sterling Vane*
*and*
*Catherine Elizabeth Blackwood*

*Saturday, the Fourteenth of June, Two Thousand and Two.*
*Las Vegas, Nevada.*

I scrolled down.

*Wedding Party:*
*Maid of Honor: Eleanor Vane.*
*Best Man: Dr. Julian Vane.*

2002.

Julian hadn't left in 1999. He hadn't fled in the night to protect Catherine.

He had stayed. He had stood beside his brother at the altar while Richard married their drugged, coerced cousin. He had stood there in a tuxedo, smiling, while they signed the papers that stole her life.

He was the Best Man. The witness. The accomplice.

I looked up at Gabriel. He was staring at me, waiting for the verdict.

"He was there," I whispered. "At the wedding. In 2002."

Gabriel let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. He dropped the pill bottle. It rolled across the concrete floor, coming to rest at Eleanor’s feet.

"He told me he tried to stop it," Gabriel said, tears cutting tracks through the dirt on his face. "He told me he fought for us."

"He fought for his share," Eleanor said coldly. "And he got it."

My phone buzzed again. Text.

I looked down.

The words glowing on the screen were a confession from a man halfway across the world, a man who had been watching us all along.

*'I stood there and let them do it,'* Julian texted. *'I'm as guilty as they are.'*